


Just One

by buriedbybooks



Category: Leverage
Genre: Case Fic, Hospitalizatiton, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Ice, Multi, Racism, Streamline Trials, child separation, detention centers, it really does have a happy/hopeful endding, racial profiling, racial violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:02:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29687841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buriedbybooks/pseuds/buriedbybooks
Summary: Parker, Eliot, and Hardison are asked to help a family separated crossing the border to the US.  Knowing they can’t change the system, Parker wants them to reunite just one child with her family.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Just One

**Author's Note:**

> When I sat down to write, this was not the fic that I had planned. I had wanted to delve deeper into the “We do what they can’t” conversation that Eliot and Parker had in the Long Way Down Job (season 4 episode 1). And I _knew_ that one of the 5+1 scenes would be Parker choosing Hardison’s safety over completing the job. And that is what I wrote first, that decision. Then the fic took a left turn because I asked myself, what job are they on where having to make that decision would gut them?
> 
> I ended up writing a whole case-fic centered around something I care deeply about instead of a 5+1. I have seen Streamline trials, and they broke my heart. I figured it would be the same for our OT3. I wrote from Parker’s POV because, like her, I am an outsider to many of these topics. And I’ve sat on this fic for months because I wasn’t sure this was something I should/could share; I am not sure this is my story to tell. A recent conversation made me think that perhaps it was time, even though the piece is far from perfect.
> 
> Please take care if you have triggers, or if this might hit too close to home. This fic includes scenes with separated families, children in detention centers, racism, racial profiling, racial violence, and hospitals. I have tried to tag appropriately, and apologize if I’ve missed any; please let me know if there are more I should add.

Sometimes right and necessary weren’t the same thing. Sometimes you had to choose. Parker didn’t even need to think about her next order to her partners; for her it wasn’t a choice.

“Eliot, get Hardison out.”

Parker knew her voice was level, that it didn’t reflect the tightness in her chest or the effort she was putting into sprinting toward her exit. She also knew that Eliot would understand the part she didn’t say: _at all costs_. This was something they had agreed on, wound around each other in the dark after a close call, while Hardison was off tying up the loose ends and electronic trails. It hadn’t been a debate, or even a discussion. She didn’t even think there had been words. They just knew.

Plan M was never an option.

__

_**36 hours earlier** _

The young man in front of her looked like he was barely out of highschool, but his eyes were older. Parker recognized that; she saw the same thing in a mirror when she bothered to look, and in the eyes of her partners each and every day. This young man had seen things he shouldn’t have at his age.

In the ways of most of their clients, the young man--Daniel Torres-Romero, was nervous about meeting them. He was hiding it well, but Parker could tell that he was trying not to fidget, trying not to get his hopes up. Trying to decide whether these two strangers could be trusted.

And when he started talking, she started to see why.

“My cousin on my father’s side, Rocío, was caught trying to cross the border without proper papers. She was able to call me--said that they’d separated her from her daughter and she has no idea where Graciela has been taken. They’re not telling Rocío anything, except that she’ll be put on the Streamline. And no one will tell me anything.”

Parker exchanged a glance with Eliot. He tilted his head slightly, indicating that he thought she should take point on this one. And that he agreed with the first question that she needed to ask.

“I have to ask you this to know if we need to protect you, too. Are you safe from deportation?” Parker asked.

“Yes, I am here with a student visa and have already found work for when I graduate. My employers are sponsoring my citizenship application,” Daniel replied promptly. “I was planning to sponsor Rocío and Graciela as soon as I could, but she said the situation back home just got too dangerous.”

“So she is seeking asylum as a refugee,” Parker clarified.

“Yes.”

“Can you tell us when Rocío and Graciela were separated?”

Daniel shook his head, and his hair flopped over his eyes. Pushing it back impatiently, he frowned at them. “She said that they were separated during initial processing, and they didn’t give her any paperwork about how to keep in touch with her daughter. They didn’t talk to her, just pushed her around, pulled Graciela away. Rocío’s English is not good, and Graciela doesn’t speak English at all. I can’t afford a lawyer, and there are too many cases like this for anyone to put a priority on finding Graciela.”

“What you are asking us to do is find Graciela?”

“Yes.”

“Just the information? What will you do with it?” Parker frowned. Her hands were clenched in her lap. This job, it would get to all of them. Children separated from parents. Children alone to fend for themselves. Children possibly abused. 

She felt Eliot’s hand on her knee, squeezing. Telling her he was there. That he would always be there.

“What else is there?” Daniel asked. “She’s being detained by the government. My cousin will be deported after she’s tried and sentenced and serves time.”

There was no question in Parker’s mind about whether they should take this case. But just finding the girl, and then leaving her there… Parker wasn’t sure she could do that.

“If we got Graciela out, could you care for her? If we get Rocío’s status changed from illegal immigrant to refugee, can she stay with you? Can you support them?”

Daniel met her eyes stubbornly. “We’d make it work.”

Parker turned to Eliot to gauge his reaction. It was tense, the lines around his mouth unhappy. He had reservations, and she had no right to pit the team against ICE without all of them being completely on board. It would be risky.

She turned to Daniel. “We’ll talk about it and let you know.”

*** 

Hardison was running through data on the large screens when Parker and Eliot entered the back room at the pub. The hacker was concentrating so intensely that he started when Parker went over to lean against his side.

“I’ll have the files ready and summarized in a couple of hours. You want to take the case, don’t you, mama?”

Hardison was still staring at the screen, and Parker could feel the tension radiate through his limbs. She looked over to Eliot, who was watching them both, arms crossed over his chest.

“They took her daughter away,” Parker said flatly.

“And getting her back would mean going toe to toe with the federal government. We can’t change the system, it’s too broken.” Eliot’s voice was controlled with undertones that Parker couldn’t quite parse. His crossed arms said worry, the fists clenched under them were anger. The hitter’s eyes, though. His eyes held pain.

“We couldn’t take down Value!More either, but we stopped one store. Can’t we stop one child from being separated from her family?” Parker argued. She didn’t want to show how much this one cut her up inside. Her partners knew those scars, they helped her soothe them, but she didn’t want to expose them bleeding like this.

“Hardison.”

Eliot was staring at the hacker, intent. There was a message there, some sort of understanding. Parker felt Hardison’s body tighten, so taut she was afraid he’d snap. When she turned to look at Hardison’s face, she realized that his stare was as intense as Eliot’s; his wide eyes reminded her of when they had been chasing the bioterrorist in D.C. Something she didn’t want to remember, and that she knew still bothered Hardison from time to time.

Finally, the hacker jerked his chin slightly to the side before turning and meeting her gaze. “Tell him ‘yes.’”

***

Parker was sitting on the briefing counter watching Hardison pace when Eliot finally returned. She saw him take in both their postures and tilt his head in understanding. The hitter came over to sit on the stool beside her and joined her in watching the hacker.

Jaw tight, Hardison pulled up the first photo. A young woman in her early twenties looked at them, her round face framed by long black hair. She was smiling as she looked at whoever had held the camera. “Rocío Torres-Montilla went through the streamline yesterday. She was charged with a misdemeanor and sentenced to thirty days in prison since it was her first offence. The judge presiding let her lawyer enter her intention for seeking asylum and a complaint that Rocío had been separated from her daughter. There was no mention of where Graciela was taken or if she would be returned.”

Hardison’s voice was flat with suppressed emotion. Parker examined her hacker again and focused on the taut muscles in his shoulders and hand clenched around the remote. It was the muscles around his eyes and mouth, though, that she finally felt she could read: rage.

After a breath, Hardison pulled up the image of a toddler, a small girl with dimples in her cheeks. She looked like she was about two years old in the photo. Parker’s hands tightened around the padlock she’d been picking.

“Graciela is five years old now, and was separated from her mother when they were caught trying to cross the US-Mexico border west of Nogales, Arizona. She is likely being kept in a Customs and Border Protection detention facility, and will be transferred into a longer-term shelter under the Office of Refugee Resettlement.”

“There are too many shelters that they could send her to; we need to get her before that.” Eliot’s tone was tightly controlled. “Any luck finding her?”

That finally made Hardison shoot them a crooked grin. Parker’s hand eased slightly on the lock--it was the first time she’d seen him smile since he’d started researching this case. “You know me well, and yes. I think I know the facility--it’s actually over in Texas, but it is the one that matches the transports leaving the border facilities in Arizona.”

“Parker, what’s our goal; we going to do more than just get eyes on Gabriela?”

Eliot’s tone was softer than it had been with Hardison, which made Parker frown. She was not going to be the weak point during this job; she couldn’t be.

“We get her back if we can. We get them both back,” Parker decided.

“Right,” Hardison agreed. Then he looked between them, and his expression turned wry. “Even though this isn’t the way we normally do things, the best thing we can do is try to manipulate the system so that they get released legally. Not that I can’t make them papers and make ‘em disappear, but the level of scrutiny means that our best option is gaming the system instead of running around it entirely. Now, Daniel actually has a chance at legally getting Graciela placed with him, as long as the paperwork makes it to all the right places. We can do that. For Rocío, we need to make sure that her application for asylum gets pushed through, which is actually harder.”

Parker nodded and looked at the pieces in front of her. The faces on the screen, the papers that Hardison had left beside her, knowing that she preferred the solidity of them when she worked a problem.

“We need eyes, we need a lawyer, and it would be good to have someone on the inside. Hardison, you’ve played the lawyer before; Eliot, you’re good with the guards. Between the two of you, you should be able to get me in to do recon.” Parker nodded to herself, finally setting aside the unpicked lock and stretching the cramp out of her hand. Plans were good. Plans could be shaped, could give them the edge.

Looking between her partners, Parker was glad to see that both of them were with her on this. There was still a slight edge to Hardison’s gaze, but he seemed as determined as she felt.

“What’s our timeline?” Eliot asked.

Hardison checked his notes. “The official line is that the children have to be moved from the detention centers to shelters within three days.”

“Then we move now. Hardison, start working on the aliases, we’ll get everything else ready to go.” Parker hopped down from her desk, already cataloguing which rigs she wanted with her--just in case.

*** 

Parker hunkered down close to the loading dock door and waited. She didn’t like this place--it was exposed, low slung and ugly. Thankfully, it shouldn’t take long before Eliot came to let her in.

Eliot had entered the facility with the first day shift, presenting papers stating that he was temporarily assigned as a guard. Hardison’s alias for him had worked perfectly, and Eliot had been able to plant a USB in the security room computer to allow the hacker remote access to the system.

Then had come the slow part. While Eliot had gone about his duties as assigned, Hardison had recorded security feeds and created a series of loops that they could play.

“We’ll have to be quick. Even put together these segments aren’t going to give us much flexibility. You going to be alright in there, babe?”

Parker had nodded. She was more worried about Hardison and Eliot who were going to be interacting with the guards. Exposed. “I wish we had a more recent photo of Graciela.”

“Way ahead of you. I was able to use an algorithm to age the image we have; she should look something like this now, though be aware she could look a lot thinner or more tired because she’s been on the move for so long.” Hardison handed her a small print out, showing a smiling child. She still had the dimples.

“Hey, man, we should be set to go,” Hardison said to Eliot, who they knew had been listening over the comms the whole time, even though he hadn’t spoken more than two words to them in the last hour. “We’re going to start driving; should be there in half an hour. I’ll start playing the loops just before I enter the building. I’m not going to be able to have any tech on me.”

“No. That’s unacceptable,” Eliot had growled into the comms.

“I’ll have my comm, I’ve put a button cam on my suit jacket and a tracker in the heel of my shoe, but no phones, no computers, no tablets. I’m not going to be able to adjust the security feed or keep an eye out for you.”

Parker had practically felt Eliot’s desire to halt the whole mission in the silence that followed Hardison’s assurance. Eliot had been riding that edge this entire job. Parker knew it was because he had more experience with the federal government and its contractors than either she or Hardison. But there was another layer to it as well, which she hadn’t been able to parse yet. When she’d tried to ask him about it, Eliot had simply said that she was the mastermind and they trusted her.

The door on the loading dock creaked open, and Parker looked up to see Eliot’s face. That expression, the shut down and controlled one, was back. She had known it would be from his tone on the comms.

Hurrying, she slipped into the facility beside him and followed toward an access point to the air duct system. Eliot carefully slipped off the cover and hoisted her up into the duct. He handed the cover back up to her, and she quietly set it back into place.

Eliot held her gaze for a moment and then nodded. He passed out of sight within two steps and Parker took a moment to orient herself. Hardison hadn’t been able to find good blueprints--these facilities were in a constant state of flux depending on how they were being used and to what capacity. What he had been able to find was that most holding areas were away from the front entrance, away from where visitors would first come. Parker headed toward the back of the building.

In her ear, she could hear Hardison introducing himself to the guard working the front desk.

“Good afternoon, I’m Michael Julian, an attorney representing Mr. Torres-Romero. He wishes to file for custody of his niece, Graciela Torres-Montilla, who is being held in this facility.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No sir, we were just informed that she had been transferred here.”

“You can’t see anyone without an appointment.”

“Sir, your system is to require two weeks prior to any appointment, and by that point she legally should not be in this facility any more. I would like to speak to someone who can actually handle this filing.”

Parker heard Eliot hiss under his breath.

She came to another split in the system that indicated a shift in levels. Parker never liked going in blind, hated that they hadn’t had time to do proper reconnaissance, but that fizz of adrenaline was addictive. They had all known that Graciela would be moved soon, and that they likely only had one chance to get into the facility. This was that chance.

Photos from the news sources that Hardison had shown them showed cages-- _cages_ \--in large empty rooms, so Parker decided on up. She needed to find rooms with higher ceilings.

Dead end. Parker looked out the grating and saw an empty hallway. This was why Hardison had worked for hours on creating loops in the system, in case she had to enter and exit the duct work.

There were different voices now, arguing with Hardison. They were getting heated, and Parker was torn between knowing that the voices were a distraction and wanting to make sure the hacker was alright.

“Eliot,” she said under her breath.

She got a grunt in response. Entering another hallway, Parker realized that she had found access to a catwalk that led out over a large room. Perfect.

“Strip.”

Parker froze. What?

“Excuse me?” Hardison’s voice was cold.

“We have the right to search anyone in this facility.”

“Search and strip are two different things.”

“Jacket, belt and shoes. Now.”

That was a second voice. How many people were there?

“Alright, like TSA. Got it.” Hardison was obviously trying to lighten the mood, but Parker could still hear the undertone of anger. “No need to get rough.”

“Wait in here.” The guard’s voice was aggressive. Parker took an immediate dislike to whomever it was that was ordering her partner around.

“Guys, they’ve got me in a holding room. No visible camera; this room wasn’t on the feeds. They took the paperwork but I don’t think they’re going to look at it,” Hardison told them under his breath.

Parker took that to mean he was alone for the moment.

“Do you need me to get you out?” Eliot demanded.

“I’m alright for the moment. Find Graciela; let’s make sure she’s here.”

Parker started moving again. This was the right place; she could see children, two or three to a pallet, in the chain-linked spaces below. There was no efficient way to identify anyone from here, but going down wasn’t an option. Armed guards roamed around, too many and too random for her to avoid in such an open space.

“You tried to sneak a camera in here?!”

The roar was followed by a thud, and Parker heard Hardison grunt. There was more thudding and then a squeal as an earbud was crushed.

Parker didn’t think, she started sprinting back the way she’d come, toward an emergency exit she’d seen in the second hallway. She had to get to the vehicles, get one in gear.

“Eliot, get Hardison out.”

*** 

Parker made it back to the cars first--the comm in her ear was eerily silent, so she had no idea where Hardison or Eliot were. How long it would take for them to get out. She’d known it was risky, but Eliot had been training Hardison, he should be able to defend himself. Parker’s knuckles were tight around the steering wheel as she waited and stared at the door.

A screech, then Eliot’s voice. “Coming out the loading bay.”

She peeled out. Parker had just come to a stop next to where she’d been hiding not half an hour earlier when the door opened and Eliot came out with Hardison draped over his shoulders in fireman’s carry. Running around to the side, Parker opened the door and helped Eliot lay Hardison across the back seat. The hacker wasn’t moving well, and she could hear his breath hissing between his teeth.

“Careful of his ribs, also not sure about his left arm,” Eliot warned in a low tone. “You want me to drive?”

Parker looked at Hardison, who had closed his eyes and was breathing shallowly. Blood oozed from a cut on his forehead, and she couldn’t see the bruises on his skin that she knew were forming there.

She turned to Eliot and pushed him to get into the car. “You can keep him steadier than I can.”

And Parker knew she drove faster.

*** 

Parker hated hospitals.

People were sick. People were hurt. And she couldn’t escape into the ventilation ducts because of how hospitals were constructed to prevent airborne contaminants and biologicals.

She sat next to Hardison’s bed and stared at him. He was not someone she thought of as fragile--he was tall, had bulked up over the years from training with Eliot--but laying in a hospital bed with bandages around his ribs, butterfly strips on his forehead and one arm in a cast… Parker shuddered and pulled her knees tighter to her chest. It felt like she could see the bruises darkening.

“How are you holding up, sweetheart?”

Eliot’s voice was soft as he came up beside her. His hand brushed her hair back so he could settle his hand at the base of her neck. It was something he did, something that she knew comforted all three of them.

“I pushed too far.”

“You took a risk. Both Hardison and I agreed to it.”

Looking up at him, Parker catalogued his bruises. He’d looked a lot worse in the past. At the moment, he just had an ice pack strapped to one shoulder. Her finger twitched to poke at it, to know that Eliot was still Eliot. Solid. Turning back to stare at the bed, Parker sighed. The doctor had said Hardison was lucky--mild concussion, ribs cracked and organs bruised, but he must have been able to block most of the blows with his arms. His left arm had sustained a compound fracture.

“Graciela?” Hardison croaked.

Parker froze. Eliot was beside the bed before she could blink, his hand gentle on Hardison’s cheek.

“Graciela?” Hardison demanded.

Eliot shook his head. “We didn’t see her.”

“Time?”

Parker watched as Hardison blinked, obviously fighting the painkillers she had watched the doctors add to his IV.

Eliot must have seen it too. He just waited, and Hardison’s eyes drifted shut again. Sighing, he came back over and squatted next to her chair. He was studying her, his eyes narrowed, a half smile starting to appear on his lips. “You can poke at them, if you want.”

Unwrapping one arm from around her legs, she poked at Eliot’s shoulder. Relieved at the feel of muscle and the twitch the pressure of her finger caused. They had a different relationship to physical pain than Hardison. Theirs was easier, carried lighter.

Focused again, Parker examined Eliot, and then nodded. “Call him.”

The hitter’s eyes got squintier. Agreement, approval. His phone was at his ear before he’d left the room.

Parker put her chin back on her knees to watch Hardison.

*** 

Parker stared at the front of the detention facility. It had been less than twenty four hours since she was last here, but this time, she was going in the front door. She didn’t like it; it felt like an itch between her shoulder blades--constant and uncomfortable. Fortunately, she would not be the one doing most of the talking. Parker just had to stay in character, and preferably, not draw attention to herself.

She looked at the man beside her. He was adjusting his cuffs and tie, which made him look even sharper in the severely plain suit.

Quinn raised an eyebrow at her when he caught her looking. “You going to give me another lecture?”

Parker frowned. “Lecture?”

“Spencer read me the riot act, told me he’d chop off my balls if I let anything happen to you.”

“That was if you were lucky. What I said was that I would kill you slowly,” Eliot corrected over the comm.

“You don’t do that anymore, man. We’re the good bad guys now,” Hardison reminded him.

The tension seeped from Parker’s shoulders. Both her partners were on the comms, despite still being at the hospital. And even though Hardison was still under observation, he sounded more like himself than he had during the night, when he had alternated between pained brevity and loopy rambling.

“You’re all just lucky I was nearby and that I find you more amusing than annoying.” Quinn reached into the car and pulled out a sleek black briefcase. “Mostly.”

“Quinn.” Eliot’s voice was a comforting growl. Parker knew that it bothered him to have to stay behind, but he’d blown his cover when getting Hardison out. Eliot had insisted that Parker not go in alone as another lawyer, rather she would go with someone who was almost as dangerous as he was. Now they just had to hope the man could hold a grift for a short time.

“Y’all remember what I told you?” Hardison asked.

That had been a briefing none of them would forget anytime soon. Though thinking back on it, Parker wasn’t sure whether Hardison would remember it at all. He’d held court from his hospital bed in order to try to teach Parker the appropriate phrases for a social service worker, and Quinn the legal terms to put pressure on the CBP and ICE agents. Hardison’s rambling had been hard to follow, and his one armed gestures rather loose limbed. Parker hadn’t really known how to stop him without winding the hacker up further, and Quinn had just leaned back against a wall and watched.

When Eliot had come back from his errand, he’d read the situation at a glance. Tossing a folder on the foot of the bed, Eliot had grabbed the waving arm with one hand and put his other hand over Hardison’s mouth. Parker didn’t have to see Eliot’s face to know that he was glaring their partner down. Once the hacker relaxed, the hitter had turned to Quinn and jerked his chin toward the foot of the bed.

“Got the judge to sign an order to release Graciela into your custody to transfer her into the care of her uncle. You should be able to use that to make sure Graciela leaves with you.”

Which was more information than Hardison had been able to tell them in the previous hour.

Parker and Quinn exchanged a look, and she was not surprised to see him smirking at the memory. “Yeah, we got it,” Quinn lied to Hardison as he opened the briefcase and checked the files.

Quinn nodded to Parker and it was time. She straightened her shoulder and chanted “Sophie. Soooophie. Sophie.” to herself. Sophie with a side of Nana. That would work.

Just as they were entering the building, there was a scuffling noise over the comms and a faint, “No, come on, Eliot…”

“Hello, I’m Jared Gibbons, Mr. Julian’s partner.” Quinn gave a not-smile to the guard, who visibly swallowed. So this man knew what had happened. Parker fought the urge to glare at him.

“I’m here to speak to your superiors about the transfer Graciela Torres-Montilla into the custody of social services and Ms. Keenan. Now. Please,” Quinn continued, his voice even until the last two words came out in a low bark.

“Can I see your identification, please?”

Parker and Quinn handed over their fake licenses. She was always amazed at the number of alias cards Hardison carried around on him on a regular basis. And thankfully, Quinn was of a similar disposition.

The guard checked the IDs, and handed them back with a nod. “Yes, sir. Just a moment.”

Parker took a deep, slow breath while the man in front of them called someone on an internal phone line. Patience. Get in. Get out. Why had Eliot taken her taser away? She really wanted to use it right now.

Another uniformed man, taller and bulkier than Quinn but with a similar complexion came through one of the security doors and approached. He held out a hand to Quinn first, then Parker. “Mark Broadsky. I’m in charge of this facility.” He led them back through the door and into a private office where he closed the door and gestured them to seats. “What can I help you with today?”

Parker frowned. This was not what she had heard over the comms yesterday.

”I have an order from Judge Walton to transfer one of your detainees, a five year old girl named Graciela Torres-Montilla into the custody of her uncle. Ms. Keenan is here to escort her.” Quinn handed over the folder.

The man in front of them, Broadsky, started to open the folder, but stopped when Quinn continued in a colder voice, “I also wanted to inform you that my partner is inclined not to press charges against you, your men, or this facility for his treatment yesterday. Or the medical bills for being in hospital because of it.”

Parker’s gaze shot to Quinn’s face. This was off script. What was he doing? This was more than get in and get out.

“Parker. Parker, it’s alright. Quinn and I discussed this… and I’ve taken Alec’s earbud.” Eliot’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Because even though it will work, it is so damned galling,” he snarled the last under his breath.

Broadsky’s face became pinched, and his hands clenched into fists. “Your partner tried to sneak a camera into our facility.”

“ _Michael Julian_ borrowed his brother’s suit yesterday with no knowledge of that camera. He is aware that your men profiled him and overreacted horrendously. He has made a formal record of the situation, but is inclined not to take further action as long as our case,” Quinn nodded to the folder on the desk, “is resolved quickly.”

Leverage. They were using Hardison’s abuse as leverage to rescue the girl. Parker clenched her hands until she felt the bite of her fingernails against her palms. This was also why Eliot had taken away her taser. She may not have wanted legal action taken against these men, but making them _hurt_...

Broadsky and Quinn were having a staring contest. Parker smirked when Broadsky broke first and opened the folder. He read the contents, shut the folder again and tapped his fingers against it. Quinn continued to stare, his posture relaxed and confident with an edge.

She was starting to like Quinn. Maybe they’d work with him again in the future.

Clearing his throat, Broadsky stood. “I will have my assistant draw up the necessary paperwork and have Graciela brought here.”

***

Parker turned and looked at the rear passenger seat again. She still hadn’t settled the need to keep Hardison in sight. The bruises were shadows deepening the tones of his skin now, and his cast stood in stark contrast. Each time she peeked, though, the knot inside her got a little looser. For the last hour, Hardison had been sprawled out across both seats with Graciela curled against his chest, held secure by his good arm.

Graciela had been timid when Parker had first met the girl in Broadsky’s office. She refused to meet anyone’s gaze, had shied away from the men who brought her in, and from Quinn as well. Parker had squatted down to her level and held out a photo that Daniel had given her of the last time he had been with Rocío and Graciela. The girl had only gotten close enough to take it, then looked at Parker. Her eyes had made Parker ache.

“We’re going to take you to your uncle--tío.” Parker wished she spoke Spanish. She reached out and pointed at Daniel in the picture. “Uncle Daniel. Tío.”

Graciela pulled the photo tight to her chest and tentatively took hold of the hand that Parker still held stretched out.

Now looking at her with Hardison, Parker thought that Graciela would be alright. Kids were resilient--they had to be. And this one had taken an immediate like to her partners. She had staring contests with Eliot that ended in giggles, though she also avoided the hitter whenever he started questioning doctors and nurses about Hardison’s condition. Parker agreed, Eliot did scary very well. Hardison, then, became Graciela’s favorite. She had gleefully taken the sharpies Parker had lifted and doodled all over Hardison’s cast, chattering away in a sing-song undertone. Hardison had just grinned and occasionally tried pulling her into a conversation with his limited understanding of her language. Eliot had snorted at the picture the hacker and child had made, but his lips were twitching as he tried not to smile.

“How’re they?” Eliot asked in a soft tone.

“Sleeping,” Parker whispered.

“Graciela is,” Hardison corrected.

Parker looked back again, but Hardison’s eyes were still closed.

“How’re you feelin’? You ready for another dose of painkillers?” Eliot started to reach toward the side pocket of the door. Parker had not been considered trustworthy with the drugs or keeping Hardison on the correct schedule.

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks, man.”

Parker heard him attempt to shift his long limbs without disturbing the sleeping child.

“I know why we have to drive, but seriously, man this back seat leaves something to be desired,” Hardison groused without heat.

He had been the one that said they were safer driving than flying until he was able to hack into the US Citizenship and Immigration Services servers and file Graciela’s forms. The detention center was required to file all of the forms that went with the transfer of custody, and they did have temporary visa papers for Graciela, but decided that trusting them was still a risk.

Besides, driving gave them a chance to stop by the federal prison where Rocío was serving her sentence. It seemed worth the extra time driving from Texas to Oregon to make it so that Rocío could see her daughter, and assure her that they were working on getting her asylum granted.

“Only vehicle available for a one way trip. Just be glad it isn’t a subcompact,” Eliot retorted.

“Hey man, if I had both arms, I’d insist that it was you back here and I’d be up there driving.”

“Driving while medicated is illegal.”

“Yeah, well, we’re the bad guys,” Hardison replied on a yawn that made his jaw crack.

“Sure. You’d have us stopping every exit for orange soda and a nap, take us four times as long…” Eliot looked into the rearview mirror and let the argument drop. He turned to Parker and grinned. “Never thought arguin’ with me would make him fall asleep,” he huffed. “Guess we learned somethin’.”

Parker snuggled back into her seat with a sigh and put her feet up on the dash, ignoring Eliot’s glare. Hardison was recovering, Eliot’s drawl was thicker, and they had rescued one child from the system. They were going to be alright.

***

Parker made Eliot give her a piggyback ride back up to their apartment after seeing Graciela settled with Daniel. It was a single family, a single child, started back in the right direction after their lives had been torn apart. She had seen in Eliot’s face, stoic except for his eyes, that the reunion between Graciela and Daniel had struck him hard as well. So as soon as they’d gotten through the back door of the pub, she’d clambered up onto his back. Eliot hadn’t protested, just hitched her up above his hipbones and supported her legs. Parker started rhythmically kicking her heel against his thigh.

Hardison was stretched out on the couch with a computer on his lap and a cell phone resting beside him when they got to the apartment. He didn’t get up when he saw them, just raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Like that, is it?”

Eliot just grunted and deposited Parker so that she could perch on the back of the couch without jostling the hacker. Facing Hardison, she wiggled her feet until they were wedged underneath his side.

He winced a bit when he laughed. “Kinda hurts when you tickle me right now, babe.”

“Just be glad she isn’t poking them.” Eliot wandered toward the kitchen.

“Graciela all settled?” Hardison asked, setting aside the computer and wrapping his hand around one of her calves.

“Hmmmm,” she agreed. “Rocío?”

“Took me twice as long as it should, but I’ve maneuvered her paperwork into the asylum stream with a rush and attention on it so her case will go before one of the sympathetic judges. And Graciela’s green card application should only be a few months behind Daniel’s. I gave his a nudge too.”

Eliot returned with drinks and sat on the coffee table facing them. He passed Parker a glass of chocolate milk and Hardison some orange juice.

The hacker looked positively offended. “What the hell, man?”

“Vitamin C. You need it.”

“But...”

Eliot glared.

Hardison sighed and made faces while sipping from his glass. “It’s not even carbonated,” he complained.

“Rocío still needs a good lawyer, they all do. They can’t afford it,” Eliot commented. “He’s living in an apartment, barely enough room for the pallet we set up for Graciela.”

Hardison passed back his glass half full and reached for his computer. “Why do you keep underestimating me? I have found Daniel and Rocío an alternative source of revenue to cover costs.”

Eliot just raised an eyebrow. “You bail them out?” 

Parker frowned. It was still hard stealing money and giving it back, but just giving money _without_ stealing it? She dug her toes into Hardison’s side.

“Ouch, woman! No! Seriously, did you two really think I’d let those guards get away with what they did to me? If I had been someone else, without you two there too pull me out, I could have been killed.”

Parker met Eliot’s gaze. No. They would never have allowed that to happen. But if they hadn’t been there… Eliot had told her about what he’d found in that room--four men beating on Hardison with nightsticks and boots--no cameras and no witnesses. If Eliot had been even a minute slower, Hardison could have been hurt much worse.

The hitter turned back to Hardison, the grooves around his mouth appearing even deeper. “Hardison, what did you do? We said we wouldn’t press charges.”

“Yeah, well, we lied. I have the names of every man that was in that room, and I have filed individual brutality charges against each of them. If they fight it, I have enough evidence between my button cam and the one Quinn was wearing to argue that it was a hate crime, since I am a genius and rigged those to automatically upload to my account.” Hardison pulled up a couple of different screens on his computer to show them. “Three of four have already decided to settle out of court for a rather large sum of money.”

Eliot whistled. “Yeah, that’ll keep Daniel, Rocío, and Graciela comfortable for a while.”

Hardison smirked. Parker noticed that his eyes were rather heavy lidded and was unsurprised when the hacker yawned. “Age of the geek, baby. I’ll keep an eye on their paperwork, make sure it stays on track.”

She reached down and closed the laptop; Eliot took it away and set it aside.

“I didn’t even show you the good part yet… some of their private stuff is going to become a lot less private… prob’ly get fired over it if their superiors find out… which they will.” Hardison blinked up at them sleepily. He’d done that a lot over the last few days, work, then crash. He wasn’t on the same level of painkillers, but his body was still healing.

“Shift,” Eliot ordered, standing and helping Hardison maneuver so that Eliot was able to sit on the couch with Hardison’s head on his thigh. The hitter’s arm draped down across the hacker’s chest, a comfort and a warning not to move.

Parker took the opportunity to shift slightly so that her leg pressed to Eliot’s side and her feet remained tucked under Hardison. Connection, but not too close. Not yet. She needed to process Hardison’s words and what they meant. Needed to see Alec’s face free of pain and Eliot’s hands gentle and protective.

Eliot leaned his head back and looked up at her. He understood, he’d never push. Just watch and be present.

Parker leaned down and pressed her lips to Eliot’s forehead.

The shift in position made her accidentally press her foot deeper into Hardison’s side. The hacker twitched and grumbled before using his arm to press her legs tighter to the back of the couch and away from his sore ribs.

Eliot chuckled and slowly rubbed his hand back and forth over Hardison’s chest.

Parker kept watch.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. I’m also on [Tumblr](https://buriedbybooks.tumblr.com/) if you’d like to drop by and see some fan art or send direct/non-public messages.
> 
> I did some research for this piece, but it was not exhaustive and may now be dated since I have not re-investigated since I wrote the piece originally. I apologize for inaccuracies. If you’d like to read more about US immigration policies and Operation Streamline, here are some links. If you look at just one, I recommend Lawrence Gipe’s illustrations.
> 
> [American Immigration Council](https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/research/immigration-prosecutions)
> 
> [Council on Foreign Relations](https://www.cfr.org/backgrounder/us-detention-child-migrants)
> 
> [Global Detention Project](https://www.globaldetentionproject.org/immigration-detention-never-best-interests-children)
> 
> [NPR](https://www.npr.org/2018/06/19/621065383/what-we-know-family-separation-and-zero-tolerance-at-the-border)
> 
> [Lawrence Gipe, Illustrating Operation Streamline](https://www.lawrencegipe.com/curatorialactivist/pqt1ttxo28brm6poohmn1slg7q4umr)
> 
> [Tucson Samaritans](http://www.tucsonsamaritans.org/operation-streamline.html)


End file.
